


Fixed the Fight

by hershpa



Category: Captain America (Movies), Dogfight (1991)
Genre: Asshole!Bucky Barnes, Civilian!Steve Rogers, Dogfight AU, First Time, Happy Ending, Its only angsty in the beginning, M/M, Plot With Porn, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-05 14:02:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1820944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hershpa/pseuds/hershpa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky Barnes is shipping to England with the 107th first thing tomorrow. His buddies let him in on the Dogfight, a big going away dance, a chance to have some fun and earn some cash. Bring the ugliest date you can find, take a spin, win the pot.<br/>He didn't expect to fall in love.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue - 1943

The bus pulled into Union City at 1915 hours.

Bucky leaned his forehead against the window, watching his breath fog up on the glass. He pressed his nose to it, then his cheek, then lolled his head back to his other shoulder. His neck was sore. They'd been driving for hours now, and it was getting dark. Bucky felt tired. He felt old. The streetlights shone through the smudge his face made on the window, dim against the purple evening, and Bucky perked up as the bus rattled to a stop.

"Half hour dinner break," the driver called. The doors opened with a shriek. When Bucky stood, the passengers stopped in line behind his seat. He wouldn't have minded the crowd, but it was nice to have the aisle to himself. People were more willing to let him move around since he got back, let him take up his own space. There were some perks to losing an arm.

Nothing compared to the perks of actually having an arm, but Bucky was always a silver linings kind of guy.

He stepped into the cool evening air and felt the pavement under his feet, grateful again to be on his way home. He savored all the little things now, like flat pavement, and street lights, and dry cigarettes. He hadn't thought he'd make it. The war had taken so many already, it was a wonder it let him go. Not all of him, but enough of him to be thankful for.

He lit a cigarette at his lips, blew the smoke to the air, and watched the glow of the streetlight again through the haze. The smoke always stuck to him a while after he finished, like a visiting relative, a thick aura, made it hard to breathe sometimes. He would have to quit after this one. He'd have to be more careful now, to watch out for more than just his own skin. His last cigarette, his last night away from home.

The diner nearest the bus stop was busy, and while the noise might have been annoying before, now it was only nostalgic. He missed this, civilian life, having supper in a noisy diner at seven fifteen and eating what you want instead of what you have. He ordered a coffee and set down his smoke, taking in the life around him. It had been a long time since he'd been on American soil, had a meal and heard voices chatting in English, only in English, rolling hard R's off their tongues. He'd missed the accent, of all things. He'd missed the R's. 

Even though kids stared at his fatigue jacket, the worn "Barnes JB, 107" in marker on his back, and their parents stared at the place his arm had been, he felt more at ease than he had in months. A few kids were running down the aisle and hopping on booths, harmless and loud enough to distract him from a radio playing the news in the corner. He could almost hear the casualty count over the bustle, but not quite. He finished his coffee and just sat for a while, letting it sink in. His last cig smoked away on the counter.

Half an hour later he was back on the bus, and as the sky turned from purple to black behind his reflection in the window, Bucky smiled. He was going home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Incredibly heavily based on and sampled from the 1991 movie Dogfight - except set during WWII and in the Army. And gay. There were a few liberties taken. Gen for now, explicit later.


	2. December, 1941

The year was 1941 and Bucky'd got himself drafted for the Big war. They called it the Big war because that's what it was; Big, capital B. Too many people, too many places, too much at once.

When he'd first walked down that dirt aisle between men who would become his friends and brothers, it hadn't been any red carpet he was walking on. He knew it at the time, but he sure remembered it red, what with how many of those men died there. Red and sticky, like the carpet aisle in the old Methodist church, run thick with the blood of Christ. Only, 600 men bleed a hell of a lot more than just one. They bleed like its raining from the sky. They bleed like you only hear in the bible.

Just before he'd shipped out, after training was over and before the fight really started, that was the best night of his life. The last night of his life, in a way, before his life turned into whatever it is now.

He was on the Army bus, six months after his numbers came up on the radio, and by then he'd decided he didn't mind the military so much. The uniforms were a pain, but the men were alright and the orders, those he was used to. He was familiar there. It was better than hauling cargo, it paid off better for sure. Probably had a better chance of not dying, too.

There was an air of excitement and general rowdiness on the road. A bunch of boys in the back of a school bus, and they weren't afraid of God or the devil or war.  
  
The way he figured, none of those men had ever seen God before, except on the cover of Playboy. None of them had ever seen the devil, except in the centerfold.

* * *

 

They were passing the magazine across the benches, hooting and laughing, making damn fools out of themselves, when an officer came down the aisle. Stern faced and rigid just like the rest of them. They're all of them stern faced and rigid right up until they're slack jawed and limp on the ground.

"Stand by, men," Jones said, "Asshole approaching, twelve o'clock." Bucky shoved the magazine under his seat. The rest quieted down and sat straighter.

"Evening, ladies," said the officer. Corporal Morita, by his tag, "This here's Private Dernier, he wanted to meet you.

"Evening, Private," said Dugan, leaning over his seat next to Bucky, "what can we do for you?"

The thing about Dugan was, he was a cocky son of a bitch. He pushed his luck, made everybody nervous, half the Army thought he was just plain stupid. But he usually came out on top. He had a funny way of knowing how hard to push before anything snapped.

"Morita here's telling me you're sponsoring a little get together tonight," said Dernier, looking a little too eager, "I want in."  
  
They exchanged looks between the four of them, and it was Falsworth who shrugged and said, "I don't know, Dernier, we're a pretty elite group."

Falsworth, he was just stupid. They didn't hold it against him.  
  
He paused and looked the Private up and down. "What do you think, Barnes?"

Bucky had played this routine a dozen times tonight. He had the script down. "You know the rules, Dernier?" Bucky asked, puffing himself up, trying to look mean. Dernier nodded, a little star-struck. "Yeah? You get the ugliest date you can find, you give her a whirl, no fucking cheating, no set-ups. And you don't tell your date about the bet." Bucky leaned a little closer, raised his eyebrows. "You break the rules, you're disqualified and you don't get your cash back, not a fucking dime, you got that?" Dernier nodded. Bucky sat back. "Do you have anyone to bring to this event, Dernier?"

Dernier nodded again, lighting up. "Fucking yes have I got someone to bring."

Bucky pretended to consider. Of course, the three men Bucky ran with nowadays would let anybody join their game, Bucky was proof enough of that. So there was no question, not really. He just had to make it look good. "Sounds pretty elite to me, guys. What do you think, Gabe?"  
  
Jones eyed Dernier a moment before he asked, "You got the 50 bucks?" A little fumbling and Dernier passed it forward.  
  
"Well shit," said Falsworth, "Looks like an outstanding candidate to me, boys, out-fucking-standing."  
  
"How 'bout that, Dernier, Monty likes you. In fact, we all like you. You're in." Bucky said it like it was some great honor, Dernier grinned a little dopey, and Bucky figured their joking hadn't even fazed him. "Festivities begin at precisely 1900. You'll be there?"  
  
"I'll be there in dress blues, tennis shoes, and a fur lined fucking jock strap," Dernier said, too excited. A little awkward, sure, but sincere, Bucky thought, and that made Dernier alright by him. They broke character as Dernier made his way back down the aisle.

The best thing about taking other privates for a ride like that, Dugan had explained to him, it's good for a laugh and it's good for their image both. Makes the other soldiers want to know them, makes them valuable. Hell, Bucky'd been on the receiving end himself not more than a month ago, he knew the effect it had. It garnered respect, and it was damn fun messing with people.

"22," Falsworth shouted over the group, "That's the biggest ever. We're gonna have us a time, huh? Yes sir, we're gonna have ourselves some kinda time!"  
  
The four of them erupted into whoops and cheers, laughing, riding their high.

* * *

 

  
Their bus arrived after another hour, and they tumbled out of their seats, bounding into the station, all of them too jittery from the ride to settle down. They were near shouting, causing a damn scene, until Dugan stepped up in front of them.

"Attention!" he shouted over the bus-full of kids in greens still piling into the building just as loud as them, his face mockingly severe. Bucky, Falsworth, and Jones lined up at exaggerated attention.

"Sir!" they shouted in unison.  
  
"Your mission is simple: you find the girl that's gonna make you a rich man! Hell, find a guy if you need to! You're not here to get laid, boys, you're here to win! Understood?"

"Yes sir!" they shouted, biting back grins, shuffling on their heels.

"Pick your date, and make it quick. Don't be late or I will personally track you down and drag you to this party as my own date if I have to, dress and all. Are we clear?"

"Sir, yes sir!"  
  
"Good! Muster at 1900. Good hunting, gentlemen!"

They gave him a wide and jerky salute, and Dugan grinned.

"Alright, enough. Fall out!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dont know a thing about history or the military and I can't be assed to research more than Google can tell me. Longer chapters to come!


End file.
